


I barely knew too much

by weezzzer



Category: Football RPF
Genre: America, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 00:07:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2366963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weezzzer/pseuds/weezzzer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Good shag, that was, no?' Fernando chuckles, and Dan tightens his grip on his knee coming up to finger at the loose thread of his jeans and the soft curve of his thigh where the seams meet. Usually they'll settle down to watch a movie or something around about now; but Danny is being over fidgety, and Fernando has a sixth sense for these things and knows he probably wants a shag.</p><p>Summer Break AU; California.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I barely knew too much

Fernando is breathing hot and heavy like he's a panting runner out of breath, he should be embarrassed but everything's too overwhelming at the moment. Stevie's leaning over him, thin at the waist and hips but his arms are stretched round the broad of Fernando's shoulders looming hot and heavy. His kisses are hard and wet, scraping teeth digging a trail from Fernando's ear to the dips of his collarbones.

'You? Ye wanna?...' Stevie whispers in his ear nonsensically, open palms coming down to curve around Fernando's waist as he readjusts his thick thighs so they're sitting wide in Fernando's lap, bare legs sitting warmly in their shorts.

Stevie feels like pressing his face into the junction of Fernando's neck, imagines him to smell like clean sweat and salt and warmth, wants to tongue at the heat that's bubbling off of him in waves; wants to but doesn't dare to.

Fernando nods desperately like he's needy for it, because he sort of is. Stevie leaning on him, hips jolting every which way and making his breath jump, the air around them heavy with the leftover heat that stayed stale in the air around them even after the sun sunk beneath the horizon.

'Hey,' Stevie says concerned, his arms bulging beneath the weave of his thin shirt as he struggles to keep his head balanced and not sink into the skin of a heaving Fernando. They're twisted along the hard surface of the leather couch in a way that melds them together like a web, Fernando's fingers twisting into the loopholes of Stevie's unzipped black jeans to drag him forward and kiss him. He's always been good with kissing, it's familiar and warm and feels nice, it doesn't take anything too intimate to be able to press your lips against someone else's and just kiss them; it's easy.

Stevie pulls back feeling dizzy, looking straight into Fernando's eyes with an intensity that would make anyone turn away and look somewhere else. Fernando just holds the look and Stevie shuffles back a little away from his grip and loosens his body so he's not so rigid and needy.

'I don't wanna be your rebound,' he says, softly with something that Fernando has seen before and maybe hits him a little too hard in the chest.

'You're... You're not...,' Fernando whispers looking down and twisting his hands in his lap, his fingers scrubbing against each other lightly like he trying to rub away the memories they hold. He wants to lie but Stevie has already seen through all that and he can't. He shuffles back against the couch a little, let's Stevie pull back as well; bracket his thighs in a V shape whilst his own head slams back against the hard of the armrest. Stevie looks at him softly for a barely-there second, his tooth biting into his lower lip, and his eyelashes swooped long in the shadows that are bouncing off the wall, then turns toward the telly.

Neither of them talk watching The Hangover roll over on the television screen and it's all too loud and too blaring, but perfect to drown out the screaming thoughts.

Fernando gets home that evening, it's still dark in the room like when he left earlier in the day, the curtains drawn. Danny's on the couch curled into the fetal position, doing something so familiarly banal: eating an apple, that Fernando thinks something may have clicked in his brain as well as his own.

He looks up at him and his smile wears down just a little at the corners, but it's still mostly there, pressed loose into his cheeks with a peeking of glinting teeth. Fernando returns the favour, sliding off his coat and shoes before padding over to the sofa and curling into him. Danny's shirt is a little crinkled like he couldn't be bothered ironing it, it doesn't looks bad just lived- in and lazy. They lay together in silence, Fernando likes the studying feeling that washes over them; and finds that it's easier to be this close to Dan again.

 

It's a Sunday and Fernando wakes up next to Danny, bedsheets settling low and cool over their waists and Dan's head is turned left under the pillow his breathing mellowed out. He shifts unintentionally to left to shake off the dead weight of his foot and Danny sighs beside him, flipping his head over and pulling at the arm curved around Fernando's hip. Yesterday wasn't abnormal in any way, Dan had texted Fernando from the grocery store: _you and me going to a bar tonight_. Fernando had only sent back a smiley emoji which was maybe a little too blunt but Dan would get it.

The bar was blaring and loud and after a few coronas Fernando was pulling Danny onto the dance floor, self-assurance on his lips before grinding ungracefully on his thigh as the bass thrummed through their skin from the nearby speakers. After a few songs, Dan was grinning wide and drunk pulling Fernando in close by his hip a sheen of sweat over his forehead. He was half hard in his jeans already but the grin that Fernando gave him made him feel hot all over, thrumming with it from the bottom of his belly.

'Let's go toilet?' Danny asked, gripping his bicep and whispering in his ear, drunkenly in a way which his vowels come out too long and his hands roamed a little too close to Fernando's arse.

'How romantic,' Fernando's saying taking a sip from a random whiskey glass as they slipped past the bar on the way to the bathroom, but his shirt is already unbuttoned from the bottom because Danny got impatient during the second Dj announcement and his fingers are skimming up the back of Danny's wrinkled Oxford blue button down; feeling the soft sweaty skin along there and the thread of his boxers.

They shove each other round the cubicle, kissing hard like they've got something to prove. It's different than Stevie, Fernando thinks, less soft and touching. Danny's not even undressed yet still wearing his shirt unbuttoned as he struggles to take off his cufflinks but Fernando's staring at him wide eyed from where he's perched on the toilet seat; bare arse cool against the surface and fingers fidgeting.

Danny pins him down, knocks his head onto the porcelain as he tries to get a kiss in, missing on a wide mark and hitting the edge of his chin in his haste. They move against each other in jerky movements, breathing hot into each other's ears and Danny's so embarrassingly close as he grinds against Fernando's naked hip, voice becoming broken as he gets closer. Fernando stays silent through it, let's the warmth of Danny's orgasm wash over him even when he's still hard against his own thigh.

'Shit,' Danny gasps wetly into Fernando's neck, it's meant to be an apology but it never gets all that eloquent with Dan, and Fernando simply hums deep in his throat staving off the urge to shove Dan off of him and wank in his face; secretly wants to see Danny's hair dripping with his come. But he doesn't, just slides his hands up and down Danny's clammy back where his shirt desperately needs to be laundered, runs his fingers through his sweaty hair there, thumbs at the bone at the base of his neck as it protrudes out as he bends over.

'S'alright." He whispers, pressing his cheek against Danny's as the other side of his face is pressed onto his bare thigh, fingernails dragging across the hair there as they both stave off the urge to curl in on themselves and sleep. There's a pounding bass line through the thin walls, and everything seems almost subdued as they get changed but when Fernando grabs Danny's cold hand and drags him back through the bar forgetting to pay their tab it almost feels reassuring.

 

Fernando's lying on his back on the sofa, a pair of headphones in and an arm thrown over his eyes. Danny appreciates the sight off him, all cosy and warm-looking in an old knitted sweater and a pair of fuzzy black socks that pull up over his tight jeans. They haven't eaten proper food in a while, only shared a packet of cheese and onion crisps at the airport terminal as they were skimming through the magazine section at Spar, so Dan feels pretty head up on his cooking skills as he pulls out two cheese and ham grilled sandwiches out of the oven. He slices off the burnt edges, and sucks the thumb that got caught on the edge of the pan into his mouth as he decants them onto old china plates he found beneath the sink and walks over to the sofas.

Fernando squirms underneath the weight of Danny as he falls back onto his body making sure he has a firm grip on the plate beforehand. Dan shuffles about a bit until Fernando is thoroughly annoyed and awake, then shuffles some more until he's rib to rib with him, an arm thrown over the back of the couch and a leg stretched over across Fernando's skinny knees.

'We're home,' Danny declares quietly as he bites into his sandwich, the remote in his left hand as he flicks aimlessly through the channels. Fernando nods, crushing the leftover crusts in the plate with his thumb. Fernando leans his head over his left shoulder, breathing damply onto the pinked skin there from the many times that he forgot suncream before laying out on the beach at midday. Danny hisses quietly and shoves Fernando off, giving him a soft glare that turns into a smile somehow.

'We are home.' Fernando grins at him grabbing the plate and putting it onto the coffee table sticky with age. Danny smiles at him, taking the initiative and shoving Fernando not so gently into the space at the other end of the couch. His head smacks against the soft leather and Danny chuckles softly, his fingers fumbling with the collars of his old stretched out sleep-shirt. Fernando doesn't help him at all, lets Dan hover above him and smooths put the creases that appear on his forehead, and then they're both laughing when Danny accidentally knees Fernando in the groin.

'You think this'll last?' Danny gasps as they roll down onto the floor just missing the table. Fernando frowns a little, snuffing his face into the mountains of Danny's collarbones. He doesn't really know, doesn't even want to make a guess in case it has an effect. So just lifts his head, and leans up to lick into Dan's mouth and if it shuts him up then, well.

*

They formally get back into a routine a few days later. Fernando stays home, his classes don't start until October, and tries not to think about how much of a housewife he feels. Dan bringing in wages, working a few hours here and there at the library or tutoring high schoolers.

'Hey,' Fernando says not taking his eyes away from the swiveling princess peach on the screen, his mouth curving up into a smile of concentration at the presence of Dan leaning arms crossed against the doorjamb . He feels a little self conscious with the way that Danny is staring at him so fondly, but he moves from his stature to make home between Fernando's open knees.

Danny lifts his elbows up a little so he doesn't jolt Fernando, but then Donkey Kong zooms past him into first place and he really starts to get pissed off. 'When did we first shag?' Danny yawns, hands coming up to curl around Fernando's calf. Fernando comes to a sudden stop on the track losing his first place position. Heat flushes from his ears to the base of his neck and he feels throbbing. But Danny tilts his head back into the low crotch of his jeans; smiling sheepishly up at him.

'Probably a few months aft a' we met,' Fernando sighs, left hand dropping the controller with a soft sound on the couch and thumb coming peeling back Danny's cracked lips, smoothing over the slick skin there. Dan nods once, the memories already there flooding in like a tidal wave.

'Good shag, that was, no?' Fernando chuckles, and Dan tightens his grip on his knee coming up to finger at the loose thread of his jeans and the soft curve of his thigh where the seams meet. Usually they'll settle down to watch a movie or something around about now; but Danny is being over fidgety, and Fernando has a sixth sense for these things and knows he probably wants a shag.

'You wanna shag now, ey?' Fernando says, fingers gliding down the front of Danny's shirt and catching against his nipples. Danny suddenly feels dizzy with the casual way Fernando says it, the easiness of it all. Fernando feels buzzed from the base of his stomach when Danny finally  gets his hands on him, tugging on the large collar of his shirt and biting at his lips with unnecessary ferocity. They stumble out into the corridor, laughing as they knock against the walls as they kiss and fail to wrench each other's clothes off as they trip over each other's feet.

 

'Sí mamá, Dan-,' Fernando sighs running his fingers through his hair being cut off by another string of his mothers worried sentences; yeah of course his ma will be worried. The last time he rang her was from a pay phone at Santa Barbara, it was a pretty rushed conversation since their flight was boarding in less than an hour and they'd barely made it through rush hour traffic in the sticky California heat.

'Eh, está mintiendo Sergio.' Dan snorts softly in his medium between too tired to open his eyes and being awake; choosing to slink closer to Fernando until he's breathing against his ribs, lips pressed tight against the soft skin there. Fernando tilts his head down and frowns a little at him, Danny is usually spread out like a starfish; all gangly limbs and bare _bare_ skin. But his eyelashes are tickling Fernando's chest, his arm stretched out across his chest with a fingernail barely scraping against his nipple. Dan sees his eyes scrunch up mid conversation.

'Sí, sí, por el amor de dios!'

And he sighs again, he'd be lying if he said it wasn't a little exasperated because unlike Dan, Fernando doesn't like long conversations with a phone tucked under his ear; talking to his mother about a new pasta recipes or how to clean dirty laundry and what detergent they used to use back home. Dan used to do that a lot when they were back in America, ring his mum as he curled up on the sofa with a cup of coffee and a forty degree heat slicing through the curtains behind him like a beam of light. It was unconventional to say the least. Fernando didn't like it, decided to text instead; hundreds of messages that cramped up his fingers as he typed quickly before he got into the shower; the little dings of each reply making him drop his head further into the stream of oncoming water. He'd always force himself to reply with a blunt emoticon with no meaning or a _get back to you soon,_ when it really meant, _I don't feel like talking, stop it, stop texting, I can't. Just stop._

Fernando hangs up and tosses his phone on the pillow beside him, staving the urge to whack Danny over the head with the intensity that he's looking at him; pityingly.

'They're flying down for Christmas this year,' he says, and Dan smiles up at him softly; sitting up a little, before slinking up over his body in a way that reminds him of those big cats on the nature channel. With hair knotted from sleep and bony knees digging a path up Fernando's legs as he makes his way up to settle his head beneath Fernando's chin, and stuff his hands underneath Fernando's back to keep them warm.

'You tell 'em we dating yet?' And it comes out muffled and warm against Fernando's skin.

'Are we?' Fernando challenges, lifting up the corners of his lips into a grin.

Danny shrugs a little, jolting them both, a little unsure. And Fernando laughs, chest vibrating.

'Course.'


End file.
